


Runaway

by boobear_meets_hazza



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot, Runaway, femme!harry, larry wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 19:44:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11835738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boobear_meets_hazza/pseuds/boobear_meets_hazza
Summary: Harry decides to turn around and run instead of walking up the aisle.





	Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a writing challenge, then decided to turn it into a Larry fanfic afterwards. It's very short, but I hope you like it!
> 
> X.
> 
> P.S. Harry may or may not be necessarily female. It's up to your imagination!

The serenity between the chirping of birds and the calm wind against my face are the opposite of the war in my head, the brewing storm that is my thoughts. The environment and my mind are just not meant to be wed right now.

All eyes are on me, evident judgement in their faces as I fail at blinking away the tears, staring at the archway, our alternative altar. My hands grip tighter against the bouquet of flowers and an uncut thorn pierces at the skin of my thumb, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the inner workings of everything within me.

When I've mustered enough strength to finally move, I make a step. A step backwards and away from the crowd. The crowd that Louis and I had carefully handpicked and gathered in a forest for the most unusual wedding, behind me right now, as I try to run towards the opposite direction of where I should be heading.

I hear gasps from them behind me as I throw the bouquet as far as I can manage, taking most of the flowy clothing in my hands. The heel of my left boot digs into the damp land and snaps into two, furthering the ache of my feet. I rush to take them away and in my hands as well, before finally deciding to throw them towards the direction of where my flowers had landed. I just need to get away as soon as possible. Before anything could catch up. Before everything else disappears.

The adrenaline in my veins subsides when I reach a more open area within the forest, where Louis and I would spend our wilderness night-outs under the sea of stars. I free my hands of clothing, wiping the moisture in my face as I keep my head towards the sky. I engulf the luminous glow of all the various flowers surrounding me, as well as the beautiful dancing of the fireflies all around.

I try to smile in awe instead of dwelling into what just happened; I couldn't think of it right now. Maybe tomorrow, I can start anew. Maybe I could create a new book from the left unwritten pages of where our future could have been. But as I watch the grace of every flying miniature being above me, I couldn't help but think I should be dancing with my love as well.

A butterfly circles in the air just in front of me, successfully grasping my attention. The feeling of it intentionally getting me to follow is surreal, yet so pulling. The beautiful creature swirls the air once more, before it flutters away, leaving a trail of dust and light. Maybe butterflies are long lost relatives of fairies. I erase the thought. I find myself following its trail.

The sun begins to set and I doubt I'll find anything within these trees when it goes fully dark. I hope the stars would be there to guide me tonight, for I don't feel like making my way out of this labyrinth of a forest. Just as I was about to quit following, a shadow of a man sits on a log a couple of feet from me. My heart picks up. My eyes refill.

He must have heard a whimper escape from my lips because it was then that he turns around, dull light illuminating his puffy red eyes. My heart sinks. I have no idea what to feel, now that I can see him up close. My throat feels drier than usual. I want to run into his arms, but I'm not sure if I can.

He stands up and closes the distance between us, cradling my hands with his. He reaches up and presses his forehead against mine, and closes his eyes before asking about my being here ever-so-quietly, like he's afraid to voice himself and scare me away. He can never scare me away, though. Not now, not ever.

"Looking for you," I whisper back, throat hoarse and body tired from all the running. I try to hide the tears in my eyes. "Please answer me, why did you leave, my runaway groom?"


End file.
